


let me in the wall you've built around

by ladyofdecember



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, References to Addiction, Season/Series 07, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:04:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofdecember/pseuds/ladyofdecember
Summary: Rusty has a hard time coming to grips with events after "The Unicorn In Captivity". His family is worried. Brock and Rusty struggle with communication.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write something after that episode and this is a bit of it. I think it's rather long, maybe not entirely pieced together right but I was inspired to get it out. This is pretty dark I think. If you've seen the episode, you know why.
> 
> "Let me in the wall, you've built around  
> And we can light a match and burn it down  
> Let me hold your hand and dance 'round and 'round the flame  
> In front of us  
> Dust to dust
> 
> You've held your head up  
> You've fought the fight  
> You bear the scars  
> You've done your time  
> Listen to me  
> You've been lonely, too long"  
> \--Dust To Dust by The Civil Wars

Dean knocked gently on his father's bedroom door a few times before pushing it all the way open. The light from the hallway flooded into the darkened bedroom and the outline of his father lying on the bed could now be seen.

He was lying on his side, back facing the door, unmoving and silent just as he had been for many days now.

"Um, Pop?" He began nervously. "I uh... I wanted to let you know there's a ceremony at the university tomorrow night. I'm... I'm getting an award from my professor." 

Dean stared at his father's form, still unmoving and silent. He swallowed and forced himself to continue. "I was hoping you'd come?"

Nothing but the sound of the air conditioner humming filled the room in response to Dean's question. His heart sank at the silence.

"I know you're... not feeling well. Um, I hope you'll think about it?" And with that he slowly shrank away, shutting the door.

Rusty lay on his side now submerged in the darkness, staring hard at the wall. His eyes dry, unable to produce any more tears, he resigned himself to his exhausted glaring.

...

Sinking down the stairs one by one and growing more emotional by the second, Dean Venture made a left through the living room to join the rest of his family in the kitchen. He paused at the table, staring dejectedly at the floor.

"What'samatter Dean?" Brock asked, mouthful of cereal.

Hank quirked an eyebrow at his brother as he continued busying himself on his jPad.

The teen began to speak slowly, carefully but despite his best efforts, erupted into sobs. "Pop isn't going to come to my ceremony and no one's going to come and I'll just be there all alone... "

Alarmed at the sudden emotional outburst from the teen, Brock swallowed his lunch and moved to grip the boy's shoulders comfortingly. "Hey... it's okay. We're all going to be there, Dean, the whole family."

"N-Not Pop... "

"I'll talk to him, alright? Now, why don't you go work on your little speech or whatever?"

The boy nodded, picked up his laptop and headed upstairs once more.

Hank looked up from his tablet and gave Brock a solemn look. "Is... is Pop gonna be okay?"

The somber expression on the man's face made the teen startle a bit.

The man's wooden chair scraped against the linoleum floor as he got up from his seat. Glancing down at the boy one more time, he said, "Yeah... he's uh... he'll be fine." 

Giving Hank what he hoped was a reassuring smile, Brock then turned and headed up the stairs to the scientist's room.

...

At the top of the stairs, Brock glanced at Dean's room on the right, finding the door firmly shut. He didn't hear any signs of muffled sobbing and so he continued on towards the left to Rusty's bedroom.

The door was shut and so the man was as quiet as possible easing it open. Finding the room pretty dimly lit what with the shades still drawn on all the windows, he picked up the nearby remote and eased them up a bit, letting in some natural light from the morning sky.

Rusty was lying still on his side, his back to the blonde and the man knew it was best if he approached him slowly. "Hey Doc, I uh... wanted to talk to ya about Dean's thing."

Receiving no response but knowing deep down the man was not asleep, he sighed and settled down on the opposite end of the bed. "C'mon Doc. Talk to me."

"Go away." Came the eventual reply, muffled a bit by the hoarseness of the man's voice and his face likely being pressed down into the sheets.

Another sigh by Brock as he wondered what he could possibly say to make it okay. "Look I know you're upset still but you gotta know that I was only doing what was best for you."

At this, the bodyguard was surprised to see the scientist fling himself upright to face him. He glared at him with red rimmed eyes, a harsh anger swirling through his gaze. "Really?!" Was all he uttered, his volatile emotions aimed directly at the man before him.

Brock faltered a bit but kept his cool demeanor. They needed to talk through this. "Doc-"

He was cut off.

"I can't believe this is happening. I... you're supposed to protect me, Brock! Not... not lock me away in some tower like a prisoner!"

"You're not a prisoner-"

"Why would you do this? Why?!" Rusty cries, anger seeming to peel away revealing the true nature of the issue at hand. The scientist was hurt and feeling far too vulnerable for his liking. 

He gripped bits of the covers in his fists violently as he stared the man down, waiting for an answer.

The blonde stood up, starting to feel a bit frustrated at what he perceived as theatrics. "Look Doc, you've been in here for days now moping. Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?!"

Rusty said nothing, the high energy response that the man had shown only moments before seemed to be deflating now. He stared at his hands resting gently on his knees. 

Silence filled the room until, "All these years, I thought... I thought you were here to protect me. Now I know, I was just being babysat."

Brock rolled his eyes. "That's not true-"

"I thought we were co-parents or something, raising the boys together. I thought... " He looked up at the man again and with tear-filled eyes, laid it all out on the table. "I thought you were my friend."

Brock's eyes widened at the statement. He knew the man meant so much more than the simple term. They had long surpassed the level of 'just friends' but the word seemed to carry an extra sting to it that broke the man's heart. "We are friends." He whispered urgently, coming to sit down on the end of the bed closer to the scientist.

"No." Rusty's voice sounded hollow and deep with grief. As he glanced up and into his eyes, a sudden rage filled them. "A warden isn't friends with his prisoner. He can't be."

Looking apologetic, his eyes a bit misty himself as well, Brock wrestled in his mind with what to say next. What could he do?

A heavy silence hung over the room until Rusty finally turned over, taking up the same position as earlier when he found him. His back facing Brock and trying not to cry too loudly, he uttered out a low, "Just go away."

Standing up, Brock struggled with what he should do. He stared at the man's lithe form and noticed the way it seemed to be shaking a bit. He sighed. "Doc... "

"Just go."

Deciding it'd be best to give the man the space he wanted, he quietly left the room, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

...

After some time of crying quietly into the cool satin of his pillow, Rusty slowly got up out of bed and made his way over toward the massive floor to ceiling windows that filled his room. Adjusting one of the shades a bit higher, he stared morosely down at the traffic below. Leaning his full body against the pane of glass, resting his forehead across the cool temperature of it, Rusty stared down at the people on the sidewalk that looked like tiny ants. 

His mind began to work against him.

What would it feel like if he just jumped? How long would it take the O.S.I. downstairs to notice? Who cares?

Shoving himself back from the window, the man shook his head of the thoughts and the path they were curving down. Distantly, he remembered the stash of pills he'd been able to acquire recently in his bathroom and he quickly headed that way.

It hadn't been hard to find a Manhattan doctor willing to issue them. After all, money can buy you anything you desire. Anything, of course, except love.

Rusty had visited him on a day he knew Brock would be busy with that Wariana woman and had timed it just right to be back home at the penthouse long before the man's return. He'd never suspected a thing. And why would he?

Rusty held the prescription bottle in his shaking hand, rolling it around and listening to the sound of the little pills clacking against the orange plastic. It was almost as if he were trying to will himself to dive in. What was he waiting for?

A quiet knocking as the door made the scientist startle and he was quickly on edge. Rage filled him once more as he realized Brock just wasn't going to leave him be. He gripped the bottle angrily.

"Um, Pop? It's me... Hank? Can I come in?" His son's shaky voice called from the hallway surprising him.

It was Hank? What on earth did he want?

Quickly stashing the bottle back in the drawer, Rusty called over his shoulder tiredly. "Come in... "

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, watching as his oldest son slowly made his way through the bedroom and over towards him. He stared at the mirror with his father.

"Hey Pop, sorry, I know you were probably resting. Uh... I just wanted to talk to ya."

"Hank, what do you see?" The scientist asked and gestured towards the mirror before them.

"...our reflections?"

"I see a man that's been through entirely too much in his life. I see someone who's tired, who's... exhausted really. I see heartache and stress and anxiety."

Hank glanced at his father quickly, worriedly. "Uh, Pop?"

But then the man smiled at their reflections. "And I see a young man who's strong, self-assured, outspoken. I see someone who's fit to take care of himself, someone who will no doubt have no issues leading VenTech Industries."

The blonde teen gaped at his father as he went to take a seat ontop of the closed toliet seat cover. "You're... you're leaving me the company?"

"I'm leaving both of you equal shares in the company." He lightly corrected.

"Well, that's not fair."

Rusty quirked a brow at his son as he continued.

"You should give all of it to Dean!"

Taken back, it was now the superscientist's turn to gape at the boy. "You... you'd let him take the whole share?"

Hank shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable as he glanced around the room, looking everywhere but at his father. "He'd know what to do with it properly. I... don't know anything! I wouldn't be good at it."

Rusty leaned forward a bit, smiling up proudly at his son. "That's why you'd be great at it!"

Feeling encouraged, Hank returned the small smile before getting to the heart of the matter. "Pop? Are you... okay?"

Rusty took a deep breath in and out and then another, in and out. The smile disappearing from his face, he grimaced. "I'll be okay, Hank."

"Does this have something to do with Brock? Are you guys fighting again?"

"It's fine, Hank. Nothing's wrong. Nothing you need to worry about anyway."

Hank turned from leaning against the counter to face the man more squarely. "We... kinda do? You're our parents? We just don't want you to fight."

"I'll be okay." Was all the man would repeat and so a silence came over the bathroom.

Rusty took another deep breath, placing his head it his hands for a moment. Hank remained leaning against the counter, pondering just what was happening with his dad and his other dad. Finally, the scientist mumbled into the palms of his hands. "Hank? Do me a favor?"

"Sure, Pop! Anything!"

Sitting up fully, the man wearily ran his eyes over his son before resting on the drawer next to him. "Open that drawer, pull out those pills that are in there."

Hank did as he was told, furrowing his brow in confusion. He held them up for the man to see.

"Take those pills Hank and hide them. Or better yet, just get rid of them. Take them far away from here and never tell me what you did with them!" 

The seriousness on his father's face made Hank realize what he had entrusted him to do. He quickly pocketed the bottle and nodded quietly.

"Never tell your dad what you did with them. And don't tell Dean or Hank about this either. It'll be our little secret."

"I got it, Pop!" Hank nodded, already formulating where to ditch the bottle later so his father couldn't get to them.

"Thank you, Hank. You're a good son." Rusty rubbed at his face wearily, just wanting to get the temptation gone from the premises. He sighed, trying not to think anymore of the previous days' events. He was so damn tired and just worn out.

Standing up, he moved closer to the boy until he was hugging him tightly. Hank, so taken back, took an extra second or two to even respond. When he did, he hugged his father tightly, fearing the worst about the man's mental state.

Rusty leaned back. "I'm okay, Hank. I'm gonna... take a shower though. I need to... " He didn't finish his statement, just eyeing the shower stall silently.

"Oh, o-okay, Pop. Well... I'll be downstairs... " He said worriedly, though he didn't move an inch. His hand reached down and palmed the shape of the pill bottle in his jean pocket.

"I'll be down in like ten minutes. I just... I need to take a shower." Rusty smiled lightly, hoping to assuage his son's worries.

"Okay... " Hank said quietly, turning to leave. He left his bedroom door cracked open just in case. 'In case of what?' The boy's mind questioned.

He didn't know.


	2. Chapter 2

Rusty came down the stairs slowly, methodically, one at a time. As he rounded the corner and made eye contact with Brock in the kitchen, his impassive face turned to an irate one. Hank was sitting at the table mesmerized by his jPad but at his father's entrance, he quickly set it down.

Intent on finally having something to eat after what felt like days with nothing, Rusty suddenly felt conflicted. He'd showered and cleaned up and decided on sitting down at the table though staring at the man before him, he realized his appetite had suddenly diminished.

"Doc... " Brock began as he stared at him, a rare look of insecurity plaguing his expression.

Glancing at the patio just off to the left, Rusty turned back to the man and glared. "I was just going outside for some air. But don't worry! I promise I'll stay within my perimeter, sir!"

And with that, he stormed off, throwing open the back door and slamming it shut behind him.

A noise of frustration erupted from Brock as he let out a huff of air. He startled when Hank spoke up.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, Hank, o'course. I'm uh... I'll be right back." 

The teen watched as Brock made his way to the back door and followed after the man. He watched the man through the kitchen window until his form disappeared around the corner. He considered getting up to look at their conversation but dreaded hearing any more of their fighting.

Outside, Rusty leaned against the stone wall and peered over the edge, rage burning inside of him and easily seen on his face. He took some deep breaths to try to calm down. The sun had already disappeared behind an array of clouds, coloring the sky a melancholy gray.

The sound of the door shutting behind him and the quiet pattering of footsteps approaching made the man straighten up a bit though he kept his gaze firmly on the buildings surrounding them.

Brock didn't hesitate in his approach, sidling up beside the man and leaning over the wall as well, his large and muscular arms draping over it.

Rusty obstinately stared ahead and said nothing.

Dean stared down at the two from his second floor window, well not his, not anymore. He was currently occupying Hank's new room, his previous bedroom, in order to work on his speech. He had been trying his best to just focus and get it done until he noticed both of his parents downstairs out near the pool.

The sound of the bedroom door creaking as it was pushed open alerted Dean to his brother's presence and he turned to see him entering the room.

"Hey... " He said quietly, a morose look playing upon his features.

Dean frowned at his twin as he joined him at the window. "What is it?"

Hank stared down at the two figures and said softly, "Brock's gonna leave again."

Downstairs, Brock decided to just say what he needed to say and get it over with. He looked at the man beside him, thinking it would spur him to gaze back. When it didn't, he sighed. "Doc, I didn't know what all Hunter was going to do, alright? The plan was-"

"The plan!" Rusty interrupted, throwing his hands up in the air exasperatedly though he said no more.

Brock continued, quieter this time and more unsure. "The plan was that he needed to get the teleporter from you and you seemed unwilling to hand it over, so... "

Rusty didn't look at him and he lost his confidence in his words, instead lighting up a cigarette from the pack in his jean's pocket.

The scientist usually would berate him for such a thing and his silence on the matter now seemed more damning than anything the man had said to him in days. He kept side eyeing the man who only ignored him. After a few puffs on his cigarette, he shifted and pulled the pack out again to offer the bald man one.

To his surprise, Rusty took it gingerly in his long, slender fingers and even allowed Brock to light it for him. They stood in heavy silence just staring out at nothing.

The gray clouds above began to increase, lending a bit of chill to the air. A misty sort of light rain began but neither seemed compelled to actually go back inside. No, this was a matter that demanded their attention here and now.

"I didn't think that... I didn't know it would affect you that badly. Like I said, I thought Hunter had it under control."

Taking a few puffs of the cigarette, Rusty let out a frustrated sigh through his nostrils and then turned to glare at the man. "All this time, I thought that you were on my side, not their's! All this time... I've been foolish."

Brock rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Doc! Really? You think after all we've been through, after all I've done for you and this family that I'd ever put them above you?!"

It was Rusty's turn to roll his eyes and look exasperated. "I think that you'd do anything for your job, yes, anything for Hunter!"

He turned to walk away then, cigarette in hand though he didn't go too far. Settling down into one of their pool chairs, he continued smoking, now staring up at the gray sky overhead. He shivered a bit but refused to give in to the cold. He wanted to make the man worry for him, make him irritated that he wouldn't just go back inside and talk about it in the warmth of their home. Also, he didn't want to continue feeling trapped in his own home. If he were to be a captive prisoner, he should at least get to enjoy the outdoors a bit and the fresh air. He deserved that much.

Brock slowly followed the man over to the pool and drug one of the chairs one handed over closer to him. He settled in, finishing his cigarette and lighting up another one. He stared at the man. "Doc... you're not a prisoner, despite what you think. And if that's what they told you then I'll talk to them about it, believe me."

He looked at him solemnly then, the air around them seeming to feel heavy once more, filled with dread and despair. "And," he sighed, "if you want me to leave I will."

Rusty looked up in shock as the bodyguard continued. "I'll resign. Tell 'em... tell 'em the job has just gotten too much. Ask for a different assignment." He shrugged.

The man grew quiet then, his gaze seemingly far away now as he stared hard at the far corner of the rooftop and through the misting rain.

The super scientist's mouth grew dry and he struggled to form the words to match the panic filling within his chest. He gripped the arm of the patio chair hard and began shaking his head. "I don't want that... " He mumbled, voice low and a bit hoarse.

Rusty glanced up at the man, his friend, no, scratch that. He was so much more than that. He was the man he loved, whom he had loved for nearly two decades at this point. They'd had ups and downs, especially downs in the beginning but they'd leveled out along the way. And they'd definitely had more ups than downs.

This wasn't the first time they'd fought like this and it wouldn't be the last. He could remember their last falling out, the day the man said he just couldn't take anymore and just left. That had been particularly hard on Hank but it was Rusty who felt the absence and bleeding vulnerability of the loss.

When Brock finally turned to meet his gaze slowly, it was almost as if time had begun to slow down all around them. Like a movie, the bald man thought absently, ruefully. Something inside of him was begging the scientist to do something, anything, to let the bodyguard know he absolutely, 100%, did not want him to leave again. 

What had happened was pretty horrible sure but was this really the outcome they wanted? What he wanted??

Feeling self-conscious, the man sat still in place, his cigarette held between two bony fingers and forgotten as he struggled to remember to breathe through the panic. The ash of said cigarette was growing long and heavy, about to spill all over his pants. It was then that the blonde silently reached over him to retrieve it from his grasp, a small, knowing smile on his face. 

Rusty stared at the sudden close proximity with wide eyes peering up from beneath heavy frames. His heart thudded in his chest.

He watched as Brock placed the cigarette between his lips, matching his own. He took a heavy drag off both at the same time, finishing them and leaning down to stub them both out in the concrete.

Feeling a longing in his chest, a heavy loneliness that was biting, Rusty hesitantly leaned forward towards the younger man. The two faced each other, the scientist looking as though he wanted to say something more.

Finally, he said with a shrug, "I just want to know that you care about me."

"Are you kiddin' me? How can you even ask that? Of course I do!" The muscular man beside him gaped.

Rusty's eyes lowered, his gaze focused on his hands as they rested in his lap.

"I care about you... and more than that, I... "

As he struggled with finishing the sentence, Rusty stared up at him from beneath his lashes. It was almost comical the way the man was grappling with what to say next. The hint of a smile appeared on Rusty's face and that was enough to spur the bodyguard on.

"Goddamn it!" Brock said, lurching forward to grasp each of the man's shoulders and pressing his lips against the other's. They kissed, the movements harsh and clumsy at first until they fell away into something more delicate and soft.

Upstairs, the teens looked on though though both broke away pretty quickly once the kissing started happening.

Dean smiled, already feeling better. "Looks like you were wrong!"

Hank shrugged, a small smile on his lips as well. "Guess so!"

The two men pulled away from each other and Rusty couldn't help but look adoringly into the other man's eyes. "I knew you cared, you big softie!"

Brock smirked at the man and lit up another cigarette.

"Hey!" Rusty cried. "What are you doing?"

"We're fighting." He mumbled, lips curling around the cigarette.

"No, we're not! We just made up!"

The man chuckled. "Fine, last one then. It's unlucky if you don't smoke the last one in the pack."

Rusty leaned over to glance at the man's cigarettes lying on the chair. "There's like three more in there!"

"Doc, shut up." The bodyguard said as he pulled the man closer once more.


End file.
